Alexander was waiting in my office when I arrived the next morning. Not in the reception area where Sarah could keep an eye on him, but in my private office, sitting in my chair behind my desk like he owned the place.
The message was clear. We needed to talk.
"Morning," I said, setting my coffee on the side table and hanging my blazer on the back door. "Make yourself comfortable."
"Elena." His voice carried an edge I hadn't heard before. "We need to discuss what happened last night."
I walked to the window and looked out at the city, giving myself time to think. Alex hadn't called or texted about the pack visit, which meant he'd found out some other way. Either Logan had contacted him directly, or Alex's werewolf senses had picked up their scent trail.
"What exactly do you think happened last night?"
"My brother came to see you. Along with Marcus and Tommy." Alexander turned my desk chair to face me. "They demanded you release me from our contract."
I clicked my pen three times and turned around. "And how do you know that?"
"Because I can smell them in this building. Their scent is all over the elevator, the hallway, probably your apartment too." His amber eyes were bright with suspicion. "Logan's been here, Elena. Recently."
"Your brother is concerned about you. That's understandable."
"My brother doesn't make social calls in human territory." Alexander stood up and moved around my desk, closing the distance between us. "He came here to threaten you. To force you to let me go."
I sat down in the client chair, projecting calm while Alex paced behind my desk like he was claiming territory. "And what would you like me to have done? Broken our contract because your family disapproves?"
"I want to know what you said to them."
"I told them you were an adult capable of making your own decisions."
Alexander stopped pacing. "That's it?"
"That's it."
He studied my face, looking for signs of deception. "Elena, Logan is pack alpha. Marcus has been with our family for fifteen years. They don't back down from human threats."
"Who said anything about threats?"
"Because they left." Alexander moved closer, close enough that I could see the gold flecks in his eyes. "Three werewolves came to confront you about taking their pack member, and they just... left. Without me."
I could tell him the truth - that his pack had recognized superior Alpha authority and submitted accordingly. But that would raise questions I wasn't ready to answer.
"Maybe they realized you were better off with me than with them."
"Elena." Alexander's voice carried a warning. "Don't lie to me."
Click, click, click went my pen. "Alexander, your pack's visit doesn't change our arrangement. If anything, it proves how much you need this program."
"Need this program?"
"Look at yourself." I gestured toward him. "You've been pacing around my office like a caged animal since I walked in. You're agitated, suspicious, unable to sit still. Classic signs of werewolf anxiety triggered by pack interference."
Alexander glanced down at his hands, noting how they were clenched into fists. "I'm not anxious. I'm confused."
"About what?"
"About why my family would give up on me so easily." He sat down heavily in the chair across from mine. "Logan's been trying to bring me home for three years. Marcus thinks Hollywood is corrupting our entire species. They don't just walk away from a fight."
I leaned forward slightly, letting concern show on my face. "Alexander, is it possible they realized you're happier here? That forcing you to return to pack life would be cruel?"
"No." His response was immediate. "That's not how pack works. We don't abandon members just because they choose difficult paths."
"Then maybe they realized this isn't a difficult path. Maybe they saw that you're thriving under proper guidance."
Alexander was quiet for a moment, processing. I could see the war playing out on his face - loyalty to pack versus dependence on me, suspicion versus hope.
"Proper guidance," he repeated slowly. "Is that what you call this?"
"I call it helping you reach your potential."
I stood up and walked to my desk, pulling out a leather portfolio. "Speaking of which, we need to discuss some adjustments to your program."
"Adjustments?"
I opened the portfolio and spread several documents across the desktop. Dietary guidelines, exercise schedules, meditation timetables. All designed to look like standard wellness coaching.
"Your pack's visit confirms what I suspected - you're still too connected to werewolf social structures. It's interfering with your progress."
Alexander leaned forward to examine the papers. "What kind of interference?"
"Pack bonds create psychological dependence that prevents individual growth. As long as you're responding to pack hierarchy, you can't fully develop personal control over your wolf nature."
I pulled out a nutrition plan and set it in front of him. "Starting today, we're implementing a specialized diet designed to support your new training regimen."
Alexander picked up the meal plan, scanning the contents. "No red meat?"
"Lean proteins only. Fish, chicken, occasionally turkey. Red meat triggers aggressive instincts that counteract the meditation work we're doing."
"Elena, I'm a werewolf. We eat red meat."
"Werewolves in the wild eat red meat because they don't have better options. You're not in the wild anymore." I pulled out another document. "Twice-daily meditation sessions. Morning and evening, thirty minutes each."
"I don't meditate."
"You will. The techniques I'll teach you are specifically designed to quiet predatory instincts and enhance rational thought processes."
Alexander was staring at the papers with growing alarm. "Elena, this looks like you're trying to turn me into a different species."
"I'm trying to help you integrate both sides of your nature instead of being torn between them."
I walked around the desk and sat on the edge, close enough to reach out and touch his shoulder. He tensed under my hand, but didn't pull away.
"Alexander, your pack visit proves that the old ways aren't working. Pack loyalty, wild instincts, territorial behaviors - they're holding you back from becoming everything you could be."
"And what is it I could be?"
"Someone who chooses when to be human and when to be wolf, instead of being controlled by moon cycles and pack dynamics." I squeezed his shoulder gently. "Someone who uses his supernatural abilities to enhance his career instead of threatening it."
Alexander looked up at me, and I could see the longing in his eyes. The desperate want to believe that transformation was possible.
"The meditation," he said finally. "What does it involve?"
I smiled and moved back to my chair. "Controlled breathing techniques. Visualization exercises. Methods for separating your conscious mind from instinctual responses."
"That sounds..."
"Therapeutic?"
"Unnatural."
I clicked my pen three times, considering how to frame this. "Alexander, what's natural for werewolves? Living in caves? Hunting deer? Never using electricity or modern medicine?"
He was quiet.
"You've already chosen to live an unnatural life by Hollywood standards. All I'm suggesting is that we make that choice more sustainable."
Alexander picked up the meditation schedule and studied it. Two sessions daily, precisely timed, with specific techniques for each time of day.
"These exercises," he said, "they're not just meditation, are they?"
"What do you mean?"
"They're designed to suppress something specific. Not just general anxiety or stress - something related to werewolf nature."
I had to give him credit. Even in his compromised state, Alex was still sharp enough to read between the lines.
"They're designed to give you control over involuntary responses," I said carefully. "The kind of control that prevents incidents like the one at the charity gala."
"By suppressing my wolf instincts entirely?"
"By teaching your human consciousness to override them when necessary."
Alexander set down the papers and looked at me directly. "Elena, what happens if I become too good at overriding them? What if I lose access to werewolf abilities entirely?"
The question hung in the air between us. It was exactly the right question to ask - and exactly the question I couldn't answer honestly.
"That won't happen," I said.
"How can you be sure?"
"Because I won't let it happen."
Alexander studied my face, looking for something he could trust. "You keep saying that. That you won't let things go wrong. But Elena, you're human. There are limits to what you can control."
If only you knew, I thought.
"Alexander, do you trust me?"
The question seemed to surprise him. "I... yes. I think so."
"Then trust that I know what I'm doing." I stood up and walked to a cabinet near the window. "Your pack's visit was a test. They wanted to see if you'd choose them over your own growth."
I opened the cabinet and pulled out a small medical kit. "You passed that test by staying committed to our program. Now we need to make sure you don't backslide."
"Backslide how?"
I returned to the desk with the medical kit and began laying out supplies. Syringes, vials of clear liquid, alcohol swabs. Alexander's eyes fixed on the needles with growing alarm.
"Pack bonds create biochemical responses in werewolves. Stress hormones, territorial markers, dominance chemicals." I filled a syringe with clear liquid from one of the vials. "After exposure to pack members, your system needs rebalancing."
"Elena, what is that?"
"Vitamin complex designed specifically for your supernatural metabolism. It'll help counteract the biochemical disruption caused by pack interaction."
Alexander was staring at the syringe like it was a weapon. "You want to inject me with vitamins?"
"I want to help you maintain the progress we've made. Pack exposure can trigger regression, Alexander. Days or even weeks of lost ground."
I could see the war playing out on his face. The logical part of his mind that recognized my explanation made sense, fighting against deeper instincts that screamed danger.
"What kind of vitamins require injection?"
"The kind that need to bypass your digestive system for maximum effectiveness." I moved closer, noting how he didn't back away. "B-complex, D3, specialized amino acid chains. Nothing you wouldn't find in any high-end wellness clinic."
That wasn't entirely true. The compounds in the syringe were far more specialized than anything available commercially. Dr. Martinez had developed them specifically for werewolf biochemistry, designed to dampen supernatural sensory enhancement and reduce the intensity of transformation impulses.
But Alexander didn't need to know that.
"Elena." His voice was quieter now, less confrontational. "I need to ask you something, and I need you to be honest."
"Of course."
"Are you trying to cure me of being a werewolf?"
The question hit like a physical blow. Not because it was unexpected, but because it was so close to the truth.
"No," I said, and that much was honest. "I'm not trying to cure you. I'm trying to help you control it."
"Control it how much?"
I met his gaze steadily. "As much as necessary for you to live the life you want."
"And if the life I want requires access to werewolf abilities?"
"Then we'll make sure you have that access when you need it."
Alexander held out his arm.
The gesture was so trusting, so complete in its surrender, that I felt an unexpected pang of something that might have been guilt. Here was an apex predator, a creature that could tear me apart without breaking a sweat, offering his arm for injection because he believed I was trying to help him.
I swabbed the injection site with alcohol, noting how his skin felt slightly too warm under my fingers. "You might feel a little drowsy afterward. That's normal."
"Drowsy how?"
"Like you've had a good workout. Relaxed, centered." I positioned the needle against his skin. "Some people report that colors seem less vivid for a few hours. Enhanced senses temporarily dial back to normal human ranges."
Alexander's pupils dilated slightly. "You're going to suppress my werewolf senses."
"I'm going to give your system a break from supernatural hypersensitivity. Think of it as noise-canceling headphones for your entire nervous system."
I pressed the needle into his arm and slowly depressed the plunger. The clear liquid disappeared into his bloodstream, carrying with it compounds that would make Alexander Kane more human and less wolf for the next several days.
"There." I withdrew the needle and pressed a small bandage over the injection site. "All done."
Alexander flexed his arm experimentally. "I don't feel any different."
"You will. The effects build gradually over the first hour." I began packing up the medical supplies. "By tonight, you should notice a significant improvement in your ability to focus during meditation."
"And my other senses?"
"Will be temporarily less overwhelming. You'll still have enhanced hearing and smell compared to normal humans, but not at the level that causes constant distraction."
Alexander stood up and moved to the window, looking out at the city below. Even from across the room, I could see the subtle changes beginning. His posture was marginally less predatory, his movements slightly more human.
"Elena," he said without turning around. "If this works - if your program really helps me gain control - what happens after six months?"
"What do you want to happen?"
"I want to go back to work. I want to make movies again, but without the constant fear that I'll lose control and expose what I am."
"Then that's what we'll work toward."
Alexander was quiet for a long moment, staring out at the sprawling city. "And the pack? Logan and the others?"
"What about them?"
"They'll want me to return eventually. Pack bonds don't just disappear because I'm living in Hollywood."
I walked over to stand beside him at the window. "Alexander, what if pack bonds could be... redirected?"
He turned to look at me. "What do you mean?"
"Pack loyalty is about finding your place in a hierarchy, following an alpha who can guide and protect you. But what if you found that guidance somewhere else?"
The words hung in the air between us. Alexander's expression was unreadable, but I could see him processing the implication.
"You're suggesting I replace pack loyalty with personal loyalty to you."
"I'm suggesting you consider who's actually helping you become everything you want to be."
Alexander's gaze moved from my face to the injection site on his arm, then back to my eyes. Already, I could see the supernatural intensity fading from his amber irises.
"Elena," he said quietly. "What are you?"
It was the same question Logan had asked the night before. The same question that would define everything that happened between us going forward.
"I'm someone who sees your potential," I said. "And I'm willing to do whatever it takes to help you reach it."
Even as I spoke, I could see the injection working. Alexander's breathing had slowed, his predatory alertness dulling to something more manageable. More human.
More controllable.
"I should go," he said, but he made no move toward the door.
"The meditation session is at eight tonight. My apartment."
"Elena—"
"Don't eat red meat today. And avoid contact with anyone from your pack. The biochemical rebalancing works better without outside interference."
Alexander nodded slowly, like someone in a dream. The supernatural compounds were taking hold faster than I'd expected, probably because his system was already stressed from the pack visit.
As he walked toward the door, his movements were noticeably more human. Less fluid, less dangerous.
More dependent.
"Alexander," I called as he reached for the door handle. "How do you feel?"
He paused, considering the question. "Calm," he said finally. "Like the noise in my head has turned down."
"Good. That's exactly what we want."
After he left, I sat at my desk and made notes in his file. Initial injection successful. Subject responsive to biochemical intervention. Enhanced compliance observed within thirty minutes.
My phone buzzed with a text message. This time, I recognized the number.
Dr. Martinez: How did he respond to the serum?
I typed back: Better than expected. May need to adjust dosage for future treatments.
Martinez: Excellent. My other subjects have shown similar results. I think we're ready for phase two.
I stared at the message for a long time before responding. Not yet. I need more baseline data first.
Martinez: Of course. But Elena - don't wait too long. The government contact is getting impatient for results.
I deleted the conversation thread and put my phone away. Outside my window, Los Angeles stretched in all directions, full of secrets and supernatural creatures pretending to be human.
And somewhere in that sprawling city, Alexander Kane was driving home with dulled senses and a growing dependence on the woman he thought was saving him.
When in reality, I was systematically destroying everything that made him what he was.
End of Chapter 6